


And I know we'll find a better place and peace of mind

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angry Kissing, Fluff, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Men discussing their feelings, The boys being big softies, my biggest kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-14 11:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: [[ Contains spoilers for Stark Trek Discovery 2x08 ]]Pike joins Spock in his quarters for a better reunion scene.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ruika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruika/gifts).



> Quick vignette set after episode 2x08 of Stark Trek:Discovery, because the end of that episode just called for... something. I just wanted to write serious guys being soft bois. And yeah I wanted to put it on paper before they get to interact again in the next episode and ruin the headcanons they created in the first part of the season.

His hands, the tip of his fingers were shaking, almost vibrating anxiously as the captain announced himself at the entrance of his officer's quarters. No reply came from inside the room but the doors soon slid open with a soft buzz, a sound more discreet than the beating of Pike's heart in this very moment, or so he felt. 

As a Starfleet officer he could not be more grateful towards Burnham for finding one of his most valuable coworkers, an asset for their team, and a wonderful collaborator. No one could tell what the future held for them but it made no doubt the fate of the universe would be much better with Spock on their side. 

As a man, however, the feelings Pike experienced since their return were so intense, bubbling so hard, threatening to burst out of his chest along with his heart, he knew they would confuse Vulcans and many other races. Even though he used all his energy to keep composure and remained a steady captain his whole crew could count on, his internal speech sounded a lot like Ensign Tilly’s. 

He had waited for the privacy of his own bathroom to crack a huge grin and bury his face in his hands with a relieved sigh, overwhelmed by his emotions and yet happy to feel his heart pound in his chest with something that, for once, was neither fear nor adrenaline. He had then put his serious mask back on, kept the schoolgirl giggles in his throat, and moved on. 

The door closed, troubling the silence of Spock's quarters. Pike walked gingerly to his friend who was sitting on a chair, legs crossed, in what looked like a meditative posture. Oh, how he had missed it! Him. His quietness, his steady presence. The calmness he radiated even through the hardest times. Only an averted eye could see in the little details sprinkled all over his figure the distress Spock had been through recently, yet still emanated from him a peace that would impress any human. 

For a few minutes, Pike stood still by the chair. Only a few respectful inches away. Spock knew his friend and commander was not waiting for anything, just enjoying the moment. To breathe in each other's presence. To feel its tangible fullness after too many empty months parted from each other. 

The slow motion of the Vulcan's chest rising and falling soon came deeper, as if he were asleep. However Pike knew his dearest friend was fully aware and mindful of pretty much everything on this ship and maybe further. Could he feel his racing heart? The turmoil of emotions under his thin human skin?

He wanted to say “I missed you”, wanted to cry, moan, be angry, be sad, show his fear for an uncertain future that might not keep Spock alive and close… but he was a captain and captains don't cry. Or worse, his Vulcan confident might think less of him, even for a moment, and like hell Pike would let that happen! So he controlled himself, swallowed his emotions, and kept acting exactly as he thought was expected of him. 

“You may take a seat if you desire so,” Spock politely invited as if they were hanging out in some house by the sea, old friends visiting each others. 

“And miss your best profile?” Pike joked lightly. “I'm good, thanks.”

Spock did not give any verbal or non-verbal response, but the corners of his eyes crinkled joyfully for a split second and the tip of his ears blushed. 

After a moment, when he felt they were both settled in their most comfortable silence, Pike dared reaching for his friend's face. Fingertips ghosted over the chiseled cheek, tracing its contours but not touching, like one would draw a map on a dematerialized screen. 

“I like it,” he nodded, dying inside to feel the dark beard against his skin but not wanting to impose physical contact.

Spock's shoulders slightly relaxed and he whispered, “You know your touch never was an issue for me.” A silent question. Why do you hesitate? This was illogical.

Pike shrugged, unable to suppress the need to constantly look at least a bit cool in front of his special friend. “It never _was_. Events have occurred since. Changes. You’ve been through a lot. Maybe… things that were no longer are.”

“Your sollicitude is appreciated,” Spock replied. He hadn't moved a bit. He waited for a second before he added, warm words contrasting with his monocord tone, “You have my enthusiastic consent to pet my beard, Christopher.” 

Pike could not contain his loud chuckle. Spock's face and attitude might have been cold and distant by neurotypical humans’ standards, but the fondness in his voice was not an illusion. 

“Are you _asking_ me to touch you, officer?” Pike teased as he finally dared to cup his friend's cheek with the palm of his hand. 

The corners of Spock's mouth barely shifted in the beginning of a smirk but his eyes were fully grinning. Pike had known him long enough to be certain his sentiments were reciprocated. Spock missed him too. A fact that eased the captain’s need for reassurance. He was frustrated with himself sometimes not to be able to understand his Vulcan friend better, but he wouldn't wish even for a second that Spock were any different. 

Soft dark hairs brushed against his fingers, the sensitive pads of his palms, as he followed the curve of Spock's jaw, all the way down to his chin. The delicate touch only made Pike realize now for how long he had been deprived of such softness. Tender feelings. Gentle touches. It had been so long since Spock had started feeling bad. Too long since he had been caught by his demons and a pain even his closest friend could not alleviate. 

“Permission to sit next to you and hold your hand?” Pike asked as if, in the matters of love, he spoke to a superior. “Or have I reached your tolerance threshold for today?” 

“Permission granted,” Spock nodded with the same deference. 

Pike pulled a chair close, quickly, as if his friend could experience another breakdown anytime soon, and frantically settled in it. His left hand found Spock's right and he entwined their fingers in a hurry. 

As their hands locked together, warm and alive, Pike let his breathing slow down, and his heartbeat relax. Spock would not vanish from his spot right now, not when the whole crew was determined to support and help him in such a brave demonstration of brotherhood. 

His heart skipped a beat when he felt Spock's fingertips tapping his knuckles. A familiar rhythm, a pattern he remembered all too well from their previous discreet encounters. That exact same pattern he had tried to decipher many times and always failed to, eventually giving up and thinking it held no meaning. A random series of circles, spirals, and straight lines traced over the skin of his hand, his wrist, sometimes his forearm or shoulder as they lounged together. 

If it bore a signification, Pike was not aware of it yet, all he knew was that it kept him grounded. At peace. At his dearest friend's side. Intimate sensations that belonged to them, in their shared moment, within their privileged space.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after episode 2x09 of Discovery. Contains spoilers, obviously.

Off all the people he would have hated to see walk through the door of his room right now, Spock was the worst. 

Pike did not feel ready to face anyone from his crew yet, too shocked and ashamed of the outcome of this tragic day to handle taking care of his officers. He needed more than ever a moment to collect himself and mourn the loss of their crewmember and friend; and he selfishly needed more warmth and empathy than a Vulcan could ever offer. Especially on this day. He didn't need logic and polite comfort, he needed someone to share his rage, someone who would lose it with him, explode and be weak with him. Someone with whom he could be Chris, not just a superior. 

Pike was pacing across his room, blowing air through his nose, fuming, trying to contain the tears, the screams that threatened to burst out of him like a storm. Spock’s presence was just one more trigger to his already fragile mind. His officers should never see him this way, and he didn’t care how Vulcan that could sound; as a man he knew, the women in his life had told him more than enough, he knew he was allowed to express his feelings but as the “best of Starfleet” as he had just been called, he had to be unbreakable. As unmoved and impeccable as his perfect hair. And how not to be a perfectionist when everyone constantly expected the best from him?

“Thank you for your presence,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat, “but I’d rather be alone now if you’ll excuse me. Whatever you had to say, can it wait?” 

He gave Spock a quick glance, didn’t dare to stare longer. It felt so annoying right now, this apparent coldness, this polite distance his favorite officer constantly kept, all the time, in every situation. Like nothing mattered to him. Something about it just made Pike even more furious in this moment, even though he knew these thoughts were deeply disrespectful of Vulcan culture and he wouldn't voice them out loud.

Spock could have had the decency to look more upset or moved by the death of an officer. Why couldn’t he share his despair and just be sad? Openly sad. Why couldn’t he look weak and whiny too? His square shoulders and serious eyebrows were taunting Pike, showing him when one wants, they can control themselves and not act like a child throwing a tantrum.

Nervously stroking his hands together, Pike was about to turn around and repeat himself, ask if his friend had heard him and why he was still there, when he heard Spock’s voice, soft and almost tender. His tone vibrated with many unreadable emotions. 

“I love you.” 

Pike’s breath caught in his throat and he almost choked. He turned around, on the verge of losing his temper. “I beg your pardon?”

“I love you,” Spock stated again, matter-of-factly, hands crossed behind his back, as if he were just talking about antimatter properties or any other random fact. He definitely looked upset to the averted eye, probably sad, but that was not enough for Pike who just craved that calmness. Chris was already in the middle of a storm, his emotions raging, running through his veins, under his skin, and Spock had to come and add to his plate? 

“Do you really think this is the right time?” Pike exhaled, shoulders tense. 

“Why not?” Spock replied in a monocord tone, slightly provocative. 

Pike joined his hands in front of his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He was almost shaking and knew if Spock didn’t go out really fast, he would lash out at him soon. 

“I really don’t need this right now, officer,” Pike retorted dryly. He hated to be so rude to his dearest friend but he felt like Spock was directly, insolently disregarding his boundaries for who knows what purpose, and he had a hard time handling it. 

“I’m not asking you to return my feelings,” Spock insisted with a strange expression in his eyes. “I’m not asking to settle with me and introduce me as your companion, nor to find a way to make it work despite hierarchy and us being fugitives. I’m just stating a fact. The fact that I love you, in what can be called a romantic fashion… even though I think you already knew.” 

Pike rubbed two fingers on his forehead with a groan. The faces of Michael, Nhan, Airiam as she decided to make the ultimate sacrifice, lingered in his mind like retinal persistences. Desperate shouts echoed in his ears, the tension he felt on the bridge still wearing his muscles. He was not in the right state to understand or acknowledge tender feelings now. Only anger and sadness filled his heart, his tightened chest. There was no room for love in his whole entire being, only the fatherly love of a captain for the crew he tried to protect. Spock’s intervention was like an annoying bug in his field of vision. 

“What do you want from me?” Pike eventually asked, furious with his friend. “What’s this all about?”

Spock took a step further, invading even more his private space. Pike wanted to shout that he was not welcome in his room right now. Goddamnit, he had respected his boundaries, always, never touched him without a warning, never made a sound he thought would displease him, never showed emotions for fear of being too human for his special friend and now he would have wanted Spock to reciprocate! This smart ass knew to respect his hierarchy, didn't he?

“Why are you angry with me?” Spock provoked, brushing his fingers on Pike’s elbow, and this time the captain was certain none of his actions were innocent. 

His words, his body language although they remained Vulcan appropriate, were defiant and teasing. As if the young officer actively searched for his anger. 

“Because...,” Pike snapped, quickly checking his door was completely closed. “Because you never mention your feelings ever, even when I ask you to, because you never talk about your emotions, hiding behind your culture and traditions, and now that I feel at my most terrible you come and burden me with them? When I’m in no space or mood to welcome them you throw them into my face? What am I to you, a trash can to fill with your unwanted emotions?” 

Deep down, Pike hated himself for being so cruel; his behavior was unacceptable, neither as a captain, as a friend, nor as a romantic partner. Spock’s unflappable expression just made him even more furious. The kid should have looked hurt by his despicable behavior.

“Why now?” Pike asked again, strong voice breaking. “When you see that I just can’t take it.” 

Pike looked at Spock who remained unmoved, standing still, arms behind his back. Long dark lashes fluttered twice. 

“I’m not asking you to ‘take’ my feelings,” Spock said with an imperceptible shrug. “I understand your tension, I also have many reasons to be angry. And confused. And sad.” 

“I bet you do,” Pike sneered, “But why do you come to me right now, when you know that I cannot help you with that? I’m the captain, one of my officers is dead, my crew just lost their friend. Why can’t it wait an hour or two, you’ve been so good at bottling up until now, can’t you just go on for a little while?” 

Spock took another step towards the captain who was slowly getting out of breath, anger constricting his chest. 

“Because I trust you. Because I don’t know what my full blown anger, my pain, my fear look like, and I know that whatever happens you wouldn’t let the expression of my emotions break our bond. Because unlike Michael you know how to embrace and process them.” 

“So? I’m not going to handle your own emotions for you, especially not now,” Pike gulped as Spock took another step closer. He heard but could not bear the vulnerability his dear friend showed so openly. “That’s not my job, what do you want me to do? Hug you better? When I’m so enraged?” 

“Show me,” Spock whispered, blinking. “Show me how you can get angry then calm down. Show me how to tame these wild horses without locking them up.” 

“This is not a wild horse,” Pike growled, hands curling into fists, “This is not a damn metaphor, this is just me full of regrets and pain, don’t make it more than what it is! It’s just pain. Plain old pain. I could punch a wall, fight creatures with my bare hands but it would still be there, why do you stand in my way? Get out. Get out, now! Are you dropping your feelings onto me just to make me lose it?” 

“That doesn’t make them less real,” Spock admitted, not even trying to deny his intents. 

Pike was torn. He wanted to run away, to avoid confrontation with the person he loved so dearly; he refused to hurt him in any way for Spock had no idea of the turmoil he was causing, and if he did he probably had his reasons. Pike was blinded by anger and only his feelings, the sweet moments they shared, the tender gestures, the touches, the intimacy of late night conversations, making Spock more than a friend even though they didn’t know exactly what they were, only his morals prevented him now from punching his so perfect Vulcan face. Fighting with an officer could be understandable, at worst, but hitting the closest person he had to a boyfriend? Never. Christopher Pike was not that kind of man. 

“Shut up,” he sighed, like a prayer. 

And for a split second Pike thought that would be all, that perhaps now, for some miracle reason, Spock would finally obey his direct order and stop saying things they would both regret. A fraction of second. A fleeting moment of peace when he actually believed it could happen before the younger man replied, voice soft but fully aware of the implications of his defiant words. 

“Make me.” 

Pike’s jaw went slack in shock. He froze with a frown, crossed the insolent gaze, pondered whether or not he should end this terrible day by sending his friend to confinement, before their lips crashed against each other. Pike’s heart skipped a beat. He wondered if he was abusing his power on a younger officer but soon registered the hands gripping his waist. Spock was pulling him just as much as he did, warm lips against his stealing a kiss that shouldn’t have tasted so right. 

And as streams of anger and sadness traveled through them, pure energy flowing in their bodies, Pike felt that was exactly what they needed from each other. They could have fought, yes, but their bubbling feelings, so hard to express, so overwhelming were in the right place. 

Pike felt a rush of anger against Michael, as Spock's hands slid up his neck and brushed his temples, and he realized his own annoyance at Burnham stubbornly trying to save the day was mixed with Spock's last sibling fight. His emotions met his friend’s, a too intense cocktail that made him experience everything more vividly, sadness and pain included. 

Their mouths slightly opened, devouring kiss growing messy. Pike’s anger was shaken when Spock let out a low grunt, feral, a proof of his sensitive humanity. The soft but luscious sound giving him permission, Pike allowed himself to moan, loving how their mutual emotions turned into pure energy by some kind of chemical miracle. The clash of teeth and raw nibbles externalized some of his furor. As seconds went by, he started to feel more than their roughness. 

He shivered as nimble fingers ruffled his hair and kneaded his neck. The pounding of his heart softened, intense but less angry. He started noticing how unbearably soft Spock's beard felt against his cheek. The Vulcan, always described as cold, now felt warm and reassuring, his body a cosy blanket wrapped around him. The scent of his skin smelled like home to Pike, even though they rarely had shared such raw intimacy. 

Feeling himself softening, his muscles relax under loving touch, Chris ran his hands up his partner's head. He couldn't help lingering when his fingers found the tips of pointy ears he had never even brushed before, was rewarded by a soft uncontrolled moan that made him smirk in the kiss. 

His breath was steadier now. He could not say he felt good, not really, but he didn't feel ready to fight the world as a revenge for the loss of his officer. Now that most of his anger was processed, tempered by the roughness of their bodies, only remained sadness and regrets, shame and failure. 

Spock let go of his lips but peppered tiny kisses at the corner of his mouth, finishing with an almost chaste peck on his nose, as if he hadn't just devoured him. 

Pike slowly looked up. Spock was still as unflappable as usual but his eyes sparkled and his slightly swollen lips shone. Around his mouth, his beard was damp. The most gorgeous catharsis in such a hard time. 

“I enjoy your honesty,” Spock whispered, voice made husky by the last few minutes. 

Pike took a deep breath but didn't take his hands off of his officer's neck. 

“Sorry for snapping at you. I absolutely had no right to do that. Apologies...” 

“Sorry for trying your patience,” Spock admitted in return. 

Pike let his breath get softer, less ragged. For a few seconds he lost himself in the loving gaze, finally noticing how Spock looked, so young, so lost among feelings he had a hard time embracing. In desperate need of a role model to show him how to express them in a healthy way. Pike wasn't sure he was the man for the job.

The captain lowered his head and placed his cheek against Spock’s clavicle. 

“Could you hold me, please?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. 

Spock immediately wrapped his arms around his superior's shoulders. “Like this?”

“Hm, tighter,” Pike dared to demand. 

He exhaled softly when Spock tightened his embrace, finding the perfect amount of pressure to make him feel safe, grounded, and contained. For a few minutes they breathed within each other's space, chests rising together. 

“I would never think you a liar,” Pike finally whispered. “I can only assume what you said earlier was sincere.” 

Spock gave a solemn nod as an answer. Of course, despite his recent attitude he would not lie about such important topic. Pike licked his still warm lips, unsure how to word his concerns.

“The feeling is shared, but you're gonna have to excuse me, I'm not on my best behavior when I just lost someone. I might not be the ideal date tonight...” 

“I couldn't care less about ideal people,” Spock tenderly cut him. “To me you are good enough, Chris. We shall see about details of our relationship later.” 

Pike nuzzled his friend's shoulder with a sad smile. This had been a rough day. One in too many. Their resting time would be short. He entwined his fingers to Spock's. 

“Do you want to stay the… to sleep here?” he asked, for there weren't nights and days in space. 

“It would be my pleasure, thank you.”

Before they headed towards the captain's bed, Spock pointed at his head with the beginning of a smirk -and how Pike could easily get used to those! “You might want to style your hair again before your next public appearance.” 

Spike raised an eyebrow and quickly looked into the closest reflecting surface. Spock's hands had done a very good job messing up his impeccable hairdo during their heated kiss. 

“Hey, you look quite disheveled yourself,” Pike grinned before he planted a quick kiss on Spock's pouty lips. 

He gently guided the Vulcan towards his narrow bed, removed his jacket to only keep his undershirt and settled on the bunk. Spock followed, swiftly molding himself to follow the shape of Spike's body. It didn't take them long to find a perfect posture, a warm and relaxed embrace. 

Pike brushed his nose against his companion's jaw. “I love you but I don't like when you play with my feelings. That was an asshole move that you just did tonight. You’ve been full of them lately…”

“I know… and I apologize,” Spock sighed but he didn't seem too worried about his own actions. “I know, the Captain thinks I am not myself, Burnham told me.” 

Pike slightly frowned at the formal use of her name. 

“However, I would rather have you express your anger by kissing you than fighting you,” Spock added. “... even though I could oblige if you prefer the latter.” 

Pike shook his head with a worried sigh. “Will you stop being so provocative?” 

The Vulcan simply blinked, brushed his thumb over his partner's lower lip. “Maybe I'm not in the right mental space to be more appropriate. I must say I like the outcome so far.” 

Pike did not answer. He curled up against Spock's frame, buried his face in the warmth of his neck. Truth be told, he liked that new side of his friend, more assertive, yet the good boy and perfect officer turning into a rebellious teenager only reminded him how their age difference, their status, the complexity of the situation would make it a difficult relationship. Maybe that was just a necessary step for Spock to embrace his humanity, or just grow into manhood. 

A gentle touch followed the curve of his head, fingertips brushed his temple. “How do you feel, Christopher?” 

Pike took his time to answer. He thought about it for a few moments. 

“I feel… sad. Devastated having to mourn yet another officer, guilty for being still alive, and accountable for my crew's well-being.” 

“That's a lot,” Spock stated. He remained silent then added after a minute, “Do you need to cry?”

“I do, but I don't think I can,” Pike admitted. Years of training had made it hard for him to let go. He wished he could release tensions as easily as some others did. 

“This is fine too,” the young officer assured, gentle and strangely mature after being so annoying. “You should take some rest.” 

Pike wiggled closer with a sad smile. “I should. What about the handsome science officer in my bed?” 

Spock lowered his head and brushed his soft cheek against his partner's like a cat in need of affection, a silent promise not to leave his side. Stay with him, closer than ever. 

“He'll be there for you as you are here for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't plan on writing more but in the next episode they kept suggesting how close Pike and Spock were ("This is not the Spock I know" uh... okay...), and Spock kept being a little shit so I could not help myself. This is the very first time, if I recall correctly, that I'm using the "make me" line but given his current attitude it couldn't fit better.


End file.
